


Ask me again under the stairs

by DorMarunt



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Berlermo Secret Santa, Fluff, M/M, successful planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28259769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorMarunt/pseuds/DorMarunt
Summary: Martin ends the call and squints through the windshield, looking for a parking space. He pulls into one, nervously glancing at the clock once more before getting out. Everything has to work out without a hitch, otherwisethe plan is ruined.Martin can't have that; they've been working on it for months. And there was just too much at stake to allow for any errors.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Ask me again under the stairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [la_puta_ama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_puta_ama/gifts).



> This is a fluffy little ficlet for the prompt "the plan is ruined". Hope you enjoy it ~~even if it lacks my usual smut~~!

Martin doesn't wait to hear Helsinki's voice, he just starts talking as soon as the line connects.

"Did you get it?"

"I'm five minutes out."

Martin takes a quick glance at the clock on the car's dashboard.

"Five minutes? Helsinki, you're cutting it a hell of a lot short for comfort. You should have been there already. Hell, you should be on your way to me!"

"I'm going as fast as I can without being pulled over. I'll make it on time. I won't let you down, Palermo."

"You'd better not, soldier."

Martin ends the call and squints through the windshield, looking for a parking space. He pulls into one, nervously glancing at the clock once more before getting out. Everything has to work out without a hitch, otherwise _the plan is ruined._ Martin can't have that; they've been working on it for months. And there was just too much at stake to allow for any errors.

And okay, sure, technically things were already going to hell in a handbasket - Martin could feel the panic course through him like strong liquor, heavy in his limbs and making him jittery. He was used to things failing, to contingency plans, to adapting to just about anything in order to see his plan through - at any other time, just… not now. But he didn’t give up easily, and neither did the rest of the band. He can do it.

He takes one last look at himself in the reflection of the glass door before he pulls it open and steps inside. 

Good, he was there first.

He gets shown to his table, and by the time he's seated he's mapped out the whole place - the exits, the comings and goings of the staff. His contact, his man inside, sees him and nods slightly. Martin smiles back.

His watch tells him he's still got five minutes, so he checks his phone - no sign from Helsinki yet. The waiter watches him from the bar, then turns to whisper something to the bartender.

It's time. Not even a second late, Andres opens the door to the restaurant, removing his hat and looking inside. He spots Martin and smiles wide, way too relaxed for what was about to happen. Martin smiles back, tight-lipped, and he flexes his fists under the table to stop the shiver that he just noticed. Andres is making pleasant chit-chat with the staff, shrugging off his coat and handing it over then follows the pretty brunette showing him to their table.

Martin hears the ping of a message in the exact second he gets on his feet, leaning to kiss Andres. 

"How was your day?"

Martin peeks at his phone while Andres talks to the waiter about some specific wines. The message just says _‘T -10’._ Helsinki was ten minutes away - they might be able to pull it off after all. He'll deliver the package to their contact inside, who would then slip it to Martin when he 'gets lost' and doesn't find the bathroom.

All he has to do now is have a pleasant chat, to not choke on the appetizers, and to not show his nervousness.

His phone vibrates on the table, but Martin ignores it. He knows what it means, and tries to control his breathing while adrenaline starts pounding through him. When there’s a natural lull in the conversation, he excuses himself and leaves for the bathroom, and, when he's sure that no-one sees him, he makes a left to an employee-only room. He doesn’t even step in - his contact only says 'good luck' as he slips the item in Martin's pocket, and Martin turns around and heads back for the bathroom.

So this is it. He’s just minutes away. He takes a deep breath, one last look in the mirror then heads back out to their table.

Andres welcomes him back with a smile, and starts talking about the walk he thinks they should take home. He has a specific route in mind, wants to see some stairs that seemingly have too rich a history for just some stairs, and Martin doesn’t even let him finish the thought.

He gets up, buries his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around the shape of the item finally in his possession. Helsinki had done a mad dash across town to retrieve it last minute - the final piece of their puzzle, the last part of their plan that had gone wrong but they’d managed to fix it in the nick of time. They were _that_ _good._

With a small nod to his contact standing on the other side of the room, Martin steels himself. Andres barely has time to react, to raise an eyebrow, he only manages to let out a _‘what—’_ before Martin drops to one knee in front of him, holding out the open box.

All the lights in the restaurant dim down, and the music shifts into a tango - _their_ tango, _their song_ , the one that was playing when they first kissed. He can smile now, his throat no longer feels like it’s closing up. He smiles up at Andres, who’s looking at him with a stunned expression.

"Andres de Fonollosa, will you—"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence, and not because he'd forgotten how to speak, like he sometimes feared that he would, but because Andres is laughing.

He’s laughing! At Martin's proposal.

It should hurt, but mostly it confuses Martin. _What?_

"Oh, I love you, Martin."

Andres slips straight from his chair and sits up onto his knees, digging inside his coat pocket and holding out a similar box.

"I was going to do it during our walk, right at the bottom of the stairs I just told you about."

Martin understands it, the words, their meaning, the delicious absurdity of the situation. He should either laugh or cry, he should definitely kiss Andres. And he will, right after he knows for sure, because it feels important in the moment to ask,

"Is that a yes?"

“Well, you haven’t really gotten to ask the question, have you?”

Martin frowns a bit, having forgotten what happened mere seconds ago. That’s right.

“Will you marry me?”

“Of course. Yes. Will you?”

“What do you think?” and then, because he feels self-conscious at his reply, he softens up, he maybe even flushes a little as he nods. “Yes. But can you ask me again under the stairs?”


End file.
